


Your Touch is All I Want

by Sheikahwriter



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Claude really wants Dimitri, Dimiclaude Week (Fire Emblem), M/M, Masturbation, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-06
Updated: 2020-01-06
Packaged: 2021-02-27 12:48:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,788
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22147435
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sheikahwriter/pseuds/Sheikahwriter
Summary: Claude can't stop thinking about Dimitri's touch.
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Claude von Riegan
Comments: 5
Kudos: 112





	Your Touch is All I Want

**Author's Note:**

> Quick thing for Day 5 - Touch

Sparring with Dimitri is always a challenge.

It’s a challenge, and Claude loves challenges. It always takes all of his effort to win fairly, though most of the time, he never plans to. He knows Dimitri gets frustrated with he resorts to different tactics, so he puts up a fair fight when he feels like it.

He fights fairly when he wants to see what Dimitri can do, and also what Dimitri looks like to him while fighting. Because usually, it is attractive.

Claude did not want to admit he had caught feelings for Dimitri. He did not want to admit that deep down, he desired him in a romantic sense. He was not going to admit he wanted him in a romantic sense, even though he already knew it was true.

What he did admit a long time ago, was that Dimitri was an attractive person.

And something about the way the sun hits his sweat-covered hair today made Claude freeze up for a moment. His muscles went weak and Dimitri’s strength was too much as he was shoved onto the ground.

He stayed there as the prince leaned over his face, worried and frantic, calling out his name. When he realized where he was and what was happening, he sat up.

Dimitri’s hand clasps with Claude’s, and he pulls him off the ground. Claude brushes himself off, ruffling the hair on the back of his head before speaking.

“Good match,” he smiles.

“Are you alright?” 

“Stop being so worried, princey,” Claude says, picking up his axe off the ground. “It was a good match.”

Dimitri looks for a moment, then moves his hand to Claude’s shoulder. He sweeps his hand, brushing off some more of the dust. He lets his hand rest there for a moment.

Claude feels his body tense. It isn’t out of fear for his strength, no. He feels his face turn warmer as Dimitri gazes into his eyes.

His touch is so gentle, but also so firm. It’s as if he is a pillar, so strong and sturdy, a means of support. Dimitri’s touch was so unique, it was so special. For that moment, he feels as though he is the only one who exists to Dimitri.

“I did not want to hurt you. Please, tell me if you’re hurt.”

Claude shrugs his shoulder, needing to get his hand off of him. “If you’re so worried, I’ll go see Manuela. It was just a small bump on the head.”

“Small bumps on the head can lead to so much more, Claude!” Dimitri begins to follow him as he walks over to put his axe up. “Do not take this lightly and please take care of yourself.”

“Are you always this persistent with anyone who duels with you and you win? Do you always send them to the infirmary to get checked out?”

He hears a loud crack as he sets his axe back onto the rack. He turns to Dimitri, seeing him holding two halves of a lance that is no longer connected.

How is he so capable of doing things like  _ that _ ?

Claude reads a pinkness on Dimitri’s face as he mutters under his breath. He walks over to the bin full of broken weapons, dropping his in.

He lifts the gym tunic over his head, watching as the muscles on his back ripple through the undershirt. Claude feels his eyebrows raise and cheeks glow with heat. What he would do to touch him. 

Now was not the time for this. He felt his body beginning to ache, deciding maybe it was time for a trip to Manuela. However, the more his thoughts lingered, the more he decided it would not be best to see Manuela.

He could shake this feeling. He could shake the desire of wanting to touch Dimitri and wanting him to touch him back. He lights a candle on his desk and pulls out a book, trying to drown himself in some Fodlan history.

He should read about Faerghus. If he brushed up on it, he could talk to Dimitri and impress him--

No. He had no reason to impress Dimitri. He just enjoyed looking at him, that was it. He did not need something more.

But he knows deep down that he wants something more.

In fact, he knows so much he can just picture himself with Dimitri, eating dinner, and touching his hand. He holds his hand, lifts it to his lips, and he kisses it. Then he smiles, and Dimitri is blushing. 

He feels his own body grow warm as he remembers Dimitri’s had on him earlier today. He remembers the slight twitch of the fingers on his shoulder. He remembers the lance he so easily broke into two. Finally, his back as he stripped off his tunic.

And his thoughts turned Dimitri around so Claude could see the front of his body. It was slick, had some scars, but that’s what made him so beautiful. He could just see his body, so toned and tense, veins making a path down his body.

That was it. He pushes away from the desk, discarding his shirt onto the ground. That ache was back and it was only growing.

He went to his bed, imagining what Dimitri does to himself when he feels like this, or even if he does feel like this. And if he does feel the ache in his body, who is it for?

It starts with his hand in his chest, stroking his hair. He slowly moves his hand harshly across his nipple. He wants to make a scene for himself--imagine how Dimitri would treat him, how he would feel him and touch him. His eyes gazing deep into him, he thinks about how Dimitri would take him and what position he would be put in tonight. 

The thought of his body came into his mind. His toned muscles and unpredictable strength that snapped the lance he had in his hands today. Oh, how he'd love to feel those callous and scarred hands on him, pushing his shoulders into the bed, pinning him down.

Then he imagined his lower half. He was straddling him, and the tension in his pants was unbearable. He knew he had to be well endowed, with someone of that strength and kindness. He palmed at himself over his pants, inhaling sharply.

Stars, forget it. He quickly shoved his pants down, freeing his erection. He can only imagine Dimitri getting excited too at the sight, rutting against his to feel him.

Claude wants to be used by him. Claude wants Dimitri to feel good because of him, even if Claude just does nothing for him. He thinks of what Dimitri would like about Claude, and imagines he would enjoy watching him get off to him, but then be overwhelmed at the sound of his name from his lips that he would immediately need to use his body for his own relief.

Would it not be easier if Dimitri just heard him from the room over? He pictures Dimitri against the wall, pressing his ear, listening to the creak of the bed as his hips ground up into his hand. 

Claude’s mouth opened, a moan escaping his throat, louder than he expected. He didn't care. He hoped Dimitri could hear him, wherever he was. He stroked himself, thumb brushing over the sensitive tip. He pictures Dimitri's hair swaying, as he rocked his hips against his own, searching for his release too.

"Dimitri," Claude breathes. God, if only he were there. If only he could hear how badly he wants him. He couldn't stop. 

He shivers as the precum coats himself, and he thinks of saying his name again and how good it felt--how good it would make him feel. He would love to hear his name off his lips.

Another pathetic whimper, "Dimitri."

"Please."

It took him all the resolve in him to stop for a moment, feeling light headed. He enjoyed the hazy feeling of being on the edge, being pushed too close, needing to beg for the last bit. He hoped that the prince also found pleasure in waiting. His hand lightly grazed up.

Dimitri playing with him to make him beg. And then he  _ smiled. _

It was pure. It was joyful. It was full of lust. It is what Claude read when he would smile at him. He wanted him to smile down on him.

His hand gripped himself once more, working back into a rhythm. This time, he was moving his hips with him, bed creaking. His breathing grows shorter, he throws his head to the side. He's so close, he can see Dimitri's face, his mouth parted, gasping with him. 

"Dimitri. Dimitri, keep going." He speaks in a husky whisper. "Stars." 

"Dima!"

He throws his head back, groaning as he paints his chest with his semen. He groans and whimpers, rolling his head, stroking himself out, picturing Dimitri's hands on him, Dimitri saying his name, Dimitri whimpering and whispering. He's still stroking himself lazily, not minding the mess on his hand. It felt good and real, and he was scared to admit it was probably one of the best orgasms he had had.

He was snapped from his mind when he heard a pair of footsteps walking down the hall. He could hear the shake of armor with each step, and then he heard a laugh, one that crawled into his skin and sat in his heart.

Dimitri keeps walking, presumably to his dorm room. Claude hears the click of the door, and suddenly, guilt washes over.

Thank the stars he was away, but nothing changed the fact that it was the best orgasm he'd had, and he used Dimitri to think about it. In fact, Dimitri was probably one of the most virgin in the monastery, not looking for someone to love or bond with.

Claude lets out a sigh as he grabs the towel to clean himself off. He truly feels like he tricked himself by falling for someone so attractive and kind. Putting into words how he feels is one of the most difficult tasks, as badly as Claude wants to do it. How does he say things and not scare him away or risk the friendship they had grown?

He slips his pants back on, sitting on the edge of his bed. He looks over to the quill and paper, resting between the circle of books, wondering if words could even help him at this point. He walks over and sits down, and begins writing. It only takes one sentence about how Dimitri's touch makes his heart race, for him to realize how far gone he truly is.


End file.
